


The Edge

by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, Spunky0ne



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dedicated to the memory of Ekaterina Alexandrovskaya, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, VictUuri, mental illness and suicide (not main characters)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl/pseuds/ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunky0ne/pseuds/Spunky0ne
Summary: After the death of a fellow Russian skater, Victor confides his grief in the safest place he knows...
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for mental illness, suicide and bullying. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out. You are not alone.

**_A heartfelt dedication to Ekaterina Alexandrovskaya: You are loved and you will be missed. Rest in peace, beautiful lady._ **

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Katsuki Yuuri woke to the sound of his alarm, and he sat up in bed, yawning and stretching…smiling as he looked forward to another day with the legendary skater who had upended his life and stolen his heart in its entirety. He breathed in slowly, closing his eyes and enjoying the light presence of Victor’s scent on the bedding. As usual, Victor had already gotten up and started his day. The fact that Yuuri hated to get up early gave his husband the perfect opportunity to get some of his own training out of the way before beginning his work as Yuuri’s coach.

_I do worry sometimes that the extra burden of taking on my training could affect Victor’s stamina, which was already one of his weaknesses. Yakov worries too. But Victor insists that when you consider the positive things I bring to our life together, there are far more positives than negatives. He claims that his concentration, his creativity and his motivation have all improved since I arrived in Saint Petersburg._

_So far, it seems like he’s right. Yurio and I have had to go all out to challenge him, and even though he is the oldest skater competing in the men’s singles division, he continues to shine just as brightly._

Yuuri grinned at the sound of padded feet and braced himself as Maccachin flew through the bedroom doors and jumped onto the bed, meeting Yuuri with a face full of doggy kisses that made the Japanese skater laugh out loud as he petted the old poodle affectionately.

“Good morning, Maccachin,” he chuckled, “Did Victor leave you here to make sure that I would get up on time?”

Maccachin barked, wagging his tail and bowing to put his head in Yuuri’s lap.

“Good boy,” Yuuri praised him, giving him a hug.

He started to climb out of bed, but was quickly tackled and brought down onto his back with Maccachin holding him down and vigorously licking his face.

“S-stop it!” Yuuri giggled, “Maccachin you’re acting just like Victor now!”

He fought his way back to a seated position, rubbing the poodle on the head, his eyes growing thoughtful.

“Except, of course, Victor gives people kisses instead of dog kisses…even if his are also usually wet!”

He was sure he heard the old dog give a canine snicker.

“Come on now, stop it,” he laughed as the poodle tried to lick his face again, “Didn’t Victor give you anything to eat this morning?”

He managed to escape Maccachin’s enthusiastic assault and he climbed to his feet and headed to the bathroom, which also carried light traces of his husband’s attractive scent.

_It’s not even the soap or cologne he uses. Victor just smells good…_

The scent seemed to travel through his body and straight to his loins, sending little flutters of arousal through his belly. He glanced longingly at the mirror’s reflection of their unmade bed and sighed.

_The weekend is over, and during the skating season, we only have sex on the weekends. So, this being Monday…_

Yuuri sighed aloud.

_It’s going to be hard to wait until next weekend. I want him again right now. I know if I complained, Victor would have me in bed before I could finish a sentence. He’s got no resistance to me at all._

_I love him so much for that!_

_It’s hard telling him no when he forgets, or when he tries to sneak around the rules, but we both really do need to put our focus on training for our events and save celebration for the weekends._

With an effort, he pushed the thought of their lovemaking out of his mind as he dressed, filling it instead with planning mentally for his training session. He prepared and ate a quick breakfast, then left the house with Maccachin on his heels.

Yuuri knew something was off when he reached the overpass, where he usually found Victor and Yurio chatting as they waited for him to meet them while they walked from their ballet lessons with Yakov’s ex-wife, to the ice rink. This time, there was no sign of the two. Yuuri sent a quick text to his husband, but received no reply. He frowned and looked at his watch.

_I’m right on time. But…maybe I forgot that something else was going on today? I’m positive that Victor would have made sure I knew. That’s probably it. He told me and I forgot…although, it’s usually not me who is the forgetful one._

He glanced down at Maccachin, who sat, thumping his tail on the ground and whining.

“Yes, I’m wondering where he is too,” Yuuri answered, “Let’s go check the ice rink to see if they checked in.”

Yuuri broke into a jog with the old poodle following, and the two reached the Saint Petersburg ice rink a short time later. A sharper worried throb went through his insides as he noticed that the lights in the rink were off and a note had been placed on the door.

_Unfortunately, I don’t yet know very much Russian. I’m learning, but I’ll probably need help._

He was relieved to see the front doors open as he approached, and Yakov exited the building wearing a deep frown. Mila and Georgi accompanied him, looking as downcast as their coach.

“Yakov!” Yuuri called out, running to meet him.

The old skating coach met Yuuri’s eyes in greeting, but Yuuri could see the sadness that radiated in them.

“Yuuri,” Yakov said solemnly, “I would have thought you would be with Vitya.”

“I went to meet Yurio and him at the bridge, but they weren’t there. I sent Vitya a text, but he didn’t answer. Do you know where he went?”

“I am not sure,” Yakov said, reaching up to rub his chin, “He and our Russian Yuri arrived early from the ballet class, saying that there had been a news report about a skater that they know. We turned on the television to watch and we learned that the skater had passed away. Vitya was terribly upset, as was our Yuri. They were even more upset to learn that the girl had taken her own life.”

“That’s horrible!” Yuuri gasped.

“I gave them both the day off of training,” Yakov went on, “but I do not know where they went. I saw Yuri leave with Otabek, but I don’t know where Vitya went.”

“You might check all of the bars between here and home,” Georgi suggested, “Victor will sometimes start drinking heavily when something really bad happens.”

“He drinks a lot anyways,” Yuuri sighed, “We’d made an agreement not to drink alcohol or…”

He paused, realizing what he had been about to say.

“Erm…uh, some other things,” he added awkwardly.

“Like sex?” Mila teased, smirking.

“We just both realized that we needed to focus on our training and not get distracted.”

“But isn’t that also hard when you’re horn—um, when you’re _thirsty_?” Georgi asked.

Yuuri shrugged.

“I think it’s made a positive difference, although Vitya complains a lot.”

“He’s Russian. Booze is like water to him,” Georgi chuckled.

“So is sex,” Mila said under her breath, making Yakov roll his eyes and mutter, “Children…”

“Anyway, I guess I’ll check the bars on the way home,” Yuuri decided, “but first I’ll check the beach. That’s another place that Vitya often goes when he needs to think.”

“Yuuri,” Yakov said sternly, “when you find Vitya, I want you to check in with me and let me know if he’s all right, or if he needs anything from Lilia or me. Sometimes, when things like this happen, he needs some time to collect himself, and then he comes back and wants to talk about it…and have a drink or two.”

“Or ten,” Georgi said sadly, “He was really broken up about this.”

“Right,” Yuuri acknowledged, “I’d better hurry and find him then.”

He left the ice rink and jogged back to the overpass with Maccachin still following, then they turned onto a cement path that led down a short distance to the beach entrance. Yuuri was glad that he and Victor had visited the area before, so he didn’t feel lost or need to ask directions. He first checked the small bar that they visited sometimes on the weekends, only to find that no one there had seen his missing husband. Leaving the bar, he jogged along the beach, searching for any sign of the Russian skater. Just when he was about at the ends of his wits, he spotted a little flash of color near some driftwood logs that, as he moved closer, turned out to be the crumpled form of a hunched over person. Victor sat amidst the driftwood, barely visible, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. His face buried in his arms, he didn’t see Yuuri approaching, and he didn’t move, even when he had to have heard his husband’s footsteps in the sand.

“V-Vitya?” Yuuri called softly, “Vitya, are you…all right?”

The only thing that escaped the Russian was a tight, clipped hiccupping sob. Then, Yuuri noticed the half empty bottle of vodka sitting in the sand beside him. Seeing that it was in the way of him sitting down, he quietly moved it aside, then he sat down beside his husband as Maccachin nuzzled Victor’s arm to try to reach his hidden face.

“S-sorry, Yuuri,” Victor whispered, “and you too, Maccachin. I’m just not…”

“I know,” Yuuri assured him, “It’s okay. Just…do what you need to do. You can talk to me if you want or we can just be quiet and listen to the water.”

Victor nodded without lifting his head, and he was quiet for awhile, with Maccachin resting up against one side, and Yuuri on the other side with his arm wrapped around. Every few minutes, he sniffed softly, but otherwise, he barely seemed to move except to breathe. When he had gathered himself, he took a shaky breath and sat up, running one shaky hand through his windblown hair.

Yuuri felt a heavy inward jolt at the shattered look in his husband’s usually lively blue-green eyes, their redness and the puffiness of the pale flesh all around them. Damp trails from the tears marked his flushed cheeks and his chest heaved softly with loosed grief. He made no move to stop Yuuri as the Japanese man removed a small water bottle and several tissues from his large coat pocket and with gentle little strokes, he carefully washed the distressed Russian’s face. Victor loosed a ragged sigh as Yuuri finished, and he rested his head on his husband’s warm shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said again, fresh tears forming in the corners of his eyes and rolling down his white face as he continued, “I must have worried you by not being there to meet you. And the drinking when…”

“I told you that you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Yuuri reassured him, kissing him on one damp, porcelain cheek, “You’ve had a terrible shock.”

Victor nodded.

“It was a shock. The bad kind of surprise,” he said shakily, lifting his head off of Yuuri’s shoulder and wiping his eyes on one sleeve, “I didn’t ever think that something like this would happen to Katia, you know?”

“H-how well did you know her?” Yuuri asked, handing his distraught husband a handkerchief that Victor used to dab at the tears that continued to leak onto his face.

“She was part of a junior group that came from Moscow to Saint Petersburg in the summer to train at Yakov’s camps. I helped out with the demonstrations sometimes or did small group lessons here or there. She was an extremely talented skater, a fierce competitor, even at so young an age. But after a few years, she wasn’t judged to be a strong enough skater to get the placement she wanted, so she left Russia to skate for another country. I didn’t see her much after that, but I was there when she and her partner won gold at the Junior Grand Prix Finals and again at the Junior Worlds. She was an amazing girl, Yuuri. Such a lovely skater and with a heart to match. I don’t know of anyone who ever met her who would have a bad thing to say about her.”

Victor paused and looked down at the bottle of vodka, then back at his waiting partner. Yuuri reached over to squeeze his hand, then picked up the bottle and handed it to him, keeping his hold on it as he looked into his husband’s sad eyes.

“Just a little, okay?” he requested softly, “Much more and I’ll have to carry you home.

“Okay,” Victor agreed, “just a little more.”

He accepted the bottle from Yuuri’s hand and took a single deep swallow, then he handed the bottle back and Yuuri anchored it securely in the sand again.

“Th-there’s a darker side to our world, the skating world,” Victor went on, shivering and closing his eyes for a moment, “There are sacrifices that we make to grow stronger and to make a place for ourselves. I know you know this, having had to fight your own battles to become the skater you are.”

“Yes,” Yuuri answered softly.

Victor pulled Maccachin closer and burrowed into Yuuri’s shoulder again, going quiet and enduring another bout of silent tears before he continued.

“All of us have our challenges,” he said, sniffing softly, “For me, I was reckless and I injured myself several dozen times. My first few coaches just said that I was determined and it encouraged me to take unwise chances. If Yakov hadn’t taken over as my coach, I probably would have eventually suffered a career ending injury. I would definitely not have become the skater I am. It was when I was with Yakov that my vision finally cleared, and I learned to set short and long term goals for myself. He gave so much to me over the years. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

He looked up for a moment and gave Yuuri a teary smile.

“And when I had reached the very top of the skating world and I began to lose my motivation, I only found it again, because you seduced me and made me run away to Japan to coach you.”

“I didn’t make you come to Japan,” Yuuri chuckled, blushing, “I didn’t even know the triplets made that video that went viral.”

“It was beautiful, Yuuri,” Victor recalled, his teary eyes softening with memory, “I felt like I had always been fighting and struggling on my own, but seeing you performing like that and learning that it was while I was competing, so we were kind of skating it together? It was overwhelming, and what happened next, everything that happened after, was enough to bring my motivation back and to save me from an early retirement.”

“Oh, come on,” Yuuri chided him, reaching down to lace their fingers together, “You weren’t going to quit.”

Yuuri’s small smile faded as he read his husband’s perfectly serious expression, and his brown eyes widened.

“You…really think you would have quit skating, Vitya?”

Victor shivered again and gave a little affirmative nod.

“The importance of having proper motivation is universal in everything we do,” Victor reminded him, “You tell me often enough how much I motivated you, and now you know that I feel the same about you. What I am saying is that, to be and to stay successful, we must feed and sustain our motivation, because when it dies, then we can no longer overcome our struggles.”

Victor’s pale lips trembled slightly and he blinked, shedding more tears.

“I wonder, you know,” he said more softly, turning his head to look out at the ocean, “what was her motivation…and what happened.”

His head turned and he met Yuuri’s dark, sympathetic eyes again.

“I wish I would have known.”

“But, you barely knew her, right?”

“That is true, but in our interactions, I wonder if there was ever any way I could have…I don’t know…made some kind of difference. I wonder if I had looked a little harder, if I would have seen her struggling…if there could have been something, _anything_ I could have said or done.”

“Victor,” Yuuri said bracingly, taking his husband’s sweaty hands in his, “you know there isn’t. I’m not saying that you couldn’t or wouldn’t have tried to help if you had known. I know you would have. You’re a really kind person who reaches out to people all of the time. But…you should know from being with me that mental illness is tricky. You can keep the lines of communication open and you can do all of the right things.”

“And a bunch of wrong things,” Victor sighed nostalgically.

Yuuri’s smile returned, making a little of the chill inside Victor’s wounded heart fade away.

“And a bunch of wrong things,” Yuuri agreed, “But in the end, you can’t fix another person. They have to find the motivation and strength to reach back for you and all of the others who support them. That’s not to say that she wasn’t a strong person. I know from what you say, that she definitely was. But with mental disease, with anxiety and depression, sometimes the best a person can do, sometimes the best any of us can do…it isn’t enough.”

Yuuri’s hands tightened on his husband’s and Victor looked back at him, barely keeping his composure.

“Even though that happened,” Yuuri went on, leaning forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Victor, burying his face in Victor’s shoulder as his husband did the same, “even though she lost that battle and all of us lost her…she is no less fierce, and you have nothing at all to feel guilty about. We just need to do what we can to honor her with our tears, our love and by doing something, however small, to see that it doesn’t happen to someone else.”

“But it will,” Victor sobbed softly, “These things happen every day, and they don’t just happen in skating. All over the world, there are so many people hurting like she did. What can we even do, Yuuri?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted solemnly, running his fingers through Victor’s messy hair, “I really don’t. But you know what? I think we can come up with something together. Why don’t we go home and soak in that big hot tub together while we do that?”

He freed himself from Victor’s grasp and stood, offering his partner a warm, steadying hand as Victor held on and let himself be helped to his feet.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he sighed, reaching down to pat Maccachin’s head as the old poodle joined them, “Come Maccachin, it’s time to go home now.”

XXXXXXXXXX

(One week later…)

Victor groaned and stretched, yawning as he followed Yuuri out of the Saint Petersburg ice rink, and the two headed down the street on their way home.

“I’m so tired, Yuuri!” the Russian skater complained, “Yakov was so mean and pushy. I must have changed things in just my step sequence a hundred times before he was satisfied.”

“Heh,” Yuuri chuckled, “You should talk, you were as pushy as he was, making me work on my lutz until I could barely skate.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to pop that lutz at an inopportune time,” Victor reasoned.

“And Yakov just wants to make sure that your step sequence is a winning one.”

“It will be,” Victor said determinedly.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed, “after all of your hard work and his nagging, right?”

“Ugh,” Victor groaned, then he and Yuuri burst into laughter together, “I hate it when you’re right about things like that.”

The two started to pass through a little park, but they came to a stop, looking around as the sound of something falling onto the ground distracted them. A short distance away, two teen girls were walking away from another, who sat on the ground, glaring after them.

“Klutz!” one of the departing girls called over her shoulder, “Looks like you can’t stay on your feet anymore out here than you can in there on the ice!”

The girl on the ground watched as they left, her eyes angry and full of tears.

“Shitheads!” she hissed, clenching her teeth and grabbing her pack as she stood, “You don’t know _anything_!”

She started in the direction the other two girls had gone, her head bowed and her shoulders stooped, but she only got a few steps before the sudden sound of Victor’s voice made her stop in her tracks.

“Annika?”

The teen’s mouth dropped open and she tried to speak, but nothing came out except a little frosted breath. Then, Victor’s name.

“M-Mr Nikiforov?” she inquired, blinking, as though to be sure he was talking to her.

“It…is Annika, right?” Victor added, approaching the girl with Yuuri at his side.

“Y-yes,” the girl stammered, “H-hi, and hello Mr. Katsuki.”

“Hi Annika,” Yuuri said, nodding, then he looked at his husband questioningly.

“Those girls,” Victor continued, “they pushed you down just now?”

Annika blushed and quivered, looking embarrassed.

“Eh…they were just…they uh…”

“I understand,” Victor said quietly, “They hurt you, but you don’t want to do anything?”

Annika let out a frustrated breath, glancing in the direction the other girls had gone.

“I want to punch their faces in,” she sighed, “but then I might get in trouble…in trouble and beat up. Nadia is a jerk, and she’s a jerk with a lot of friends.”

“Hmm,” Victor said, rubbing his chin, “well, we can’t have that, can we?”

Annika gave him a wide-eyed look that reminded the two young men immediately of a younger Yuuri Katsuki.

“Um…what do you…?” the girl managed.

“You are in the juniors now?” Victor asked.

“Yeah,” Annika sighed, “but just barely. I worked as hard as I could to get in, and I did…but now, it just seems like nothing I do is good enough. I don’t know, maybe they were right and I should just train longer at the novice level.”

Victor and Yuuri exchanged glances and Victor gave the girl a kind smile.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he reasoned, “The coaches here are very clear on what they are looking for, and if they say that you have it, even if you just barely have it…you do.”

“You really think so?” the girl said warily, brushing a few sweaty hairs out of her blue eyes.

“No, I _know_ so,” Victor said firmly, “and I also know some things that can help you, if you wouldn’t mind coming to see Yuuri and me during Yuuri’s training tomorrow.”

“What?” Annika yelped, her eyes rounding.

Then, she caught herself, and her face took on a tormented expression.

“I have to do extra lessons tomorrow,” she said sadly.

“Mm-mmm,” Victor said, shaking his head, “I will talk to your coach, and you will come to Yuuri’s training session tomorrow.”

He met Yuuri’s eyes for a moment.

“You don’t mind, do you, _solnyshko_?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Yuuri laughed, “It’ll be fun to have someone there, so Victor won’t just be scolding me!”

“Really?” Annika said warily, “I can really…”

“It’s just for tomorrow,” Victor said, nodding, “but I think in one day, I can show you some things that will make a world of difference in your skating.”

“You’re not kidding,” the girl said excitedly, “You’re really going to…?”

“Go on home, eat a big dinner and get lots of rest tonight,” Victor warned her, “You are going to work your tail off tomorrow.”

“He’s not kidding,” Yuuri chuckled, “Believe me.”

“Oh I do! Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov! Thank you, Mr. Katsuki!”

She ran off and Victor and Yuuri laughed softly as they heard her muttering about how the other girls were going to react. Victor slipped an arm around his husband and turned him towards their home.

“You know,” Yuuri said, smiling up at Victor, “that was really nice. I think you made Annika’s whole year with that. But I also think you will be more tired than she will after your training, mine and hers.”

“Probably,” Victor agreed, leaning his head on Yuuri’s shoulder as they walked home, “but it’ll be worth it.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the fierce girl that the skating world had recently lost.

_I didn’t have the chance to help you, Katia, but just maybe, by helping Annika, I can make someone else’s life a little brighter in your honor._

_Sleep well, beautiful lady._

_You won’t be forgotten._


End file.
